can't take the heat
by lord-is-it-mine
Summary: "What's the matter, Rogers?" He challenges, sucking a mark over Steve's collarbone. "Can't take the heat?" ((pre-war/serum. pwp. fluff and smut. enjoy.))


It's hot. Like ninety degrees in the shade hot. Fry an egg on the sidewalk hot. Sweat through your clothes 'til you're soaking wet hot. And to make matters worse, all Bucky can think about is getting home to Steve. Hot, sweaty Steve, who's probably abandoned clothing in a last ditch effort to cool off. So- hot, sweaty, _naked_ Steve. In the unbearable July heat. Bucky hopes there's a cold shower in his near future, because God is he gonna need one.

It's ten minutes and thirty-seven seconds past six. He'd been checking the clock all fucking day, and as soon as his shift was over, he nearly took off in a run- would have full on sprinted, if it wasn't for the fact that his throat might have closed up. He thinks maybe he's starting to understand Steve's asthma- more than he already does- way more than he'd like to. He picks up the pace when he starts to worry about it- what's heat like this gonna do to Steve's lungs? It's not like the air is clear- it's so humid that there might as well be a fog collecting in his lungs every time he inhales. The stink of the docks is extra strong today, the humidity sweating out the stench from every trash barge and steam engine. Bucky knows that he himself must be covered in the same smell. He wipes his hand across his forehead and it comes away dripping wet. That cold shower is sounding better with every sidewalk stone he covers. He'll have to take Steve in with him.

Every window in their building is open- the ones in the buildings across the street are too- the sound from the apartments carries down into the road. The sun has just barely begun to sink towards the rooftops, the shadows about to get long over the pavement. Bucky can hear the overtones of conversations, the rises and falls of a gramophone as it blares a jazz tune down the block, and the in and out of static as someone tunes a radio. There's a tangible sense of community that settles over the neighbourhood on nights like this. It makes Bucky feel like he never wants to leave.

When he mounts the front steps, the neighbours are out, fanning themselves with the paper and drinking beer while some of the kids play at their feet. If he wasn't on such a mission, he would stop and strike up a conversation, maybe bum a cigarette off the landlady (even though he's supposed to have quit. Again). All he does is nod a hello, flash a smile, and hightail it up the stairs, figuring he can't break a sweat anymore than he already has.

"Steve?" Bucky hollers, dropping his key on the table and kicking his boots off as he walks through the front door. He's out of his shirt before he hits the bedroom door.

"In here." Steve calls back out of habit, not moving to go find Bucky. The Apartment's not that big. Bucky will find him eventually.

When Bucky all but bursts into the room, he's greeted by a sight that's both a cold drink of water and a spark that sets his whole body on fire (as if it wasn't already).

Steve is stripped completely naked, sprawled across the bed on his stomach, sketching away without so much as a care in the world. His fingers are blackened with charcoal, and Bucky wants nothing more than to have those smudges all over him. He never realised how rarely he gets to admire Steve from this angle. His eyes unashamedly follow the line of Steve's naked form- the arch of his neck down the dip of his back, and up over the curve of his ass. His skin is so pale and smooth- it makes him look fragile, which Bucky knows he is- but Bucky also knows the tenacious strength of Steve's arms, the power in his legs, and the skill of his hands. It makes Bucky smile slightly and bite his own lower lip. Steve is all his. Some days he can still hardly believe it.

"How was work?" Steve asks nonchalantly, not looking up to see the utterly starving look on Bucky's face. It's _as if_ he has no idea how incredibly fuckable he looks. Bucky knows better. Steve is completely aware of how he can get anything he wants out of Bucky. Bucky isn't even bothered in the slightest.

"Work was hell." Bucky takes a step, hoping that he doesn't dissolve into a pathetically aroused puddle of sweat. He makes it to the bed, thankfully, crawling over Steve end leaning in to see what he's drawing. Multiple nondescript faces look back at him.

"Literal hell." He continues. "I swear, the devil himself released the lake of fire on the poor, unsuspecting streets of Brooklyn. I feel like I'm _melting_."

Bucky straddles Steve's legs and drops a kiss on Steve's shoulder. His lips come away with the taste of salt. Steve hums pleasantly, but still doesn't abandon the sketch of what looks to be an extremely angry old man. Bucky rolls his eyes, grinding his hips against Steve's ass and breathing hotly on the side of Steve's neck. This gets Steve's attention. He braces his hands against the paper and grinding back against Bucky's covered erection.

" _Damnit_ , Buck." He curses, a little pissed but a lot more turned on. "You're gonna make me ruin this drawing."

"That's the general idea." Bucky thrusts against Steve again, biting teasingly at the spot right under Steve's ear. Steve moans, finally pushing the sketchbook aside and rolling onto his back, surging up to meet Bucky's mouth in a sloppy kiss. Bucky feels the slide of Steve's chalky fingers against his own sweaty skin and shivers. They keep on necking until they're both practically aching from it. Then, Steve's stomach growls. Loudly.

" _Steve_." Bucky says between kisses. "Have you eaten today?"

"I forgot?" Unbelievably, Steve actually thinks this is a reasonable excuse. Bucky pulls back and glowers at him until he comes up with a better one.

"I woke up late. And it's too hot to eat."

"Too hot to do a lot of things." Bucky points out. "Way to hit to fuck, but that ain't gonna stop me."

Steve just groans, out of exasperation or arousal Bucky doesn't know. He'd like to think that it's a little of both.

"What's the matter, Rogers?" He challenges, sucking a mark over Steve's collarbone. "Can't take the heat?"

"As if, Barnes." Steve retorts breathlessly. "Shower?"

"Shower." Bucky agrees, resisting the urge to pick Steve up and carry him there. Or just suck him off right here on the bed, heat be damned. Steve, however, has already slid out from underneath Bucky, swaying his hips teasingly as he heads for the bathroom. Bucky nearly trips over himself as he follows.

Once inside, Bucky pauses to strip the rest of the way, already feeling some of the heat evaporate from his skin. He comes up behind Steve, who is busy turning on the taps, and wraps his arms around Steve's waist, dropping his forehead on Steve's shoulder. Steve smiles softly, covering Bucky's hands with his own and silently pulling them under the icy spray. Bucky immediately gasps, his muscles tensing at the cold, senses sharpening as he acclimates to the change in temperature. It's the best thing he's felt all day. He relaxes into it, his sun-reddened skin finally beginning to cool.

Bucky spins Steve to face him and backs him up against the shower wall. Steve pulls Bucky's hair, flinching a little at the freezing cold tile against his bare shoulders. It's a little bit of a tight fit, both of them in the small stall like this, but it was one of the first things they worked out when they moved into this place. If Steve was any bigger, they probably wouldn't be able to do it at all. Which would be a shame, since Bucky soaking wet and wanting is one of Steve's favourite things to do.

Steve reaches for the shelf behind him, grabbing a bar of soap and sliding it between his hands, washing away the dark charcoal stains on his hands. He looks up at Bucky and sees where he's left stains on his face, and so he rubs at those smudges too. Bucky takes the soaps from Steve's hand, beginning to slough off the grime and the smell of the docks. Steve reaches around to clean his back, pulling their hips together. At the first touch of over sensitive skin, Steve's hands drop to Bucky's ass, rubbing their cocks together. Bucky whimpers into Steve's mouth, but before Steve can do anything more, Bucky drops to his knees, slowly kissing his way down Steve's Stomach, licking at the rivulets of water rolling over Steve's skin.

" _Jesus_ , Buck." Steve hisses, head falling back against the shower wall when Bucky's lips close around his cock. Bucky tongues at the underside, taking Steve deep into his mouth. He groans at the fullness of his mouth, and the sharp taste of precome on the back of his throat.

When Bucky pushes a soap-slicked finger inside Steve, he is rewarded with Steve's hands pulling roughly in his hair, ragged moans echoing through the small space. Bucky looks up and sees Steve staring down at him, blue eyes clouded over, breaths coming short and heavy through his kiss-red mouth. He adds another finger, and Steve's jaw goes slack, eyes screwing shut.

"Bucky, _come on_." Steve begs, going weak at the knees as Bucky's fingers scissor inside him and brush his prostate with every other pump of Bucky's hand. "I want- I need you to- _fuck_ , Bucky, I need you inside'a me."

Steve is well aware that he's babbling almost incoherently, but he's loathe to find a reason that he should be the least bit embarrassed. He's too far gone to care. He doesn't want it to be over just yet though, and if Bucky keeps going with his mouth like that-

"Fuck me. _Now_. I'm not sayin' please." Steve puts all the firmness in his voice that he can find- he knows how to get what he wants. If there's one thing that Bucky likes more than making Steve beg for it, it's going exactly what Steve tells him to do.

Bucky pulls his mouth off Steve's cock with a wet pop, which would be obscenely arousing on its own without Bucky following it by getting to his feet and kissing Steve hard, licking into his mouth and letting Steve taste himself there- it's filthy and wrong and Steve just loves it.

"You know I love it when you order me around, Stevie." Bucky growls, pulling his hand away from Steve's ass, making Steve whine at the loss. He strokes himself a few times with his soapy hand, silently encouraging Steve to wrap his legs around Bucky's waist. Steve does so eagerly, thankful for yet another thing they probably couldn't do this easily were he a normal sized human being.

"You want it so bad, don't you?" Bucky asks, the head of his cock slipping teasingly over Steve's entrance. "You just can't wait for me to fuck you, huh?"

Finally, he pushes slowly into Steve, who cries out at the overwhelmingly perfect feeling of Bucky's cock filling him up.

"Yes- _God_ , yes." Steve nods, sucking in a breath when Bucky begins to move his hips, steady but torturously slow.

"I bet this is what you think about all day while I'm at work. I bet you just lay in bed and imagine me bending you over the kitchen counter, opening you up with my tongue and then fuckin' you 'til you can't walk right the next day." Bucky picks up the pace, and Steve's fingernails begin to dig into his back. He can do nothing but moan in response to Bucky's words, his own voice failing him.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Steve." Bucky's voice drops to a whisper, barely audible over the hiss of the shower. "I think about it too. Sometimes it's the only think that gets me through the day- knowing that I get to come back home and have you all to myself, any way I want you. I get to come home and do this- fuck you good and proper, get to take care of you like you deserve."

Bucky snaps his hips up, pounding into Steve relentlessly. Steve hangs onto Bucky for dear life, swearing when Bucky wraps a hand around his cock and jacks him off in time with his thrusts. It's just about then that his cock hits Steve's sweet spot, and Steve nearly comes right then and there.

"All those guys at the docks, they're always goin' on about the girls they got waitin' for 'em at home, and they ask me who I got waitin', and it kills me. It kills me that I can't tell them I'm yours- I'm all _yours_. I just smile and say that no one does it for me like my baby does, and it's true, Stevie. No one gets me like you do. And I wanna scream it to the whole world, that you're mine and they missed out. Boy, did they miss out."

" _Bucky_ -" Steve rasps, overcome with emotion and the force of the pressure building inside him. He knows that orgasm is about to hit him like a train, and if the sporadic rhythm of Bucky's hips is anything to go by, he's in the same boat.

" _Fuck_ \- Steve, so close, I'm so _close_ -"

"Me- me too. Shit, Buck, you fuck me so good. Come for me, come on, I wanna feel you."

Bucky groans low in his chest, seeing white as he climaxes with one last jolt of his hips. Steve follows him over the edge almost instantly, breathlessly repeating Bucky's name as he comes hard- every muscle in his body spasms out of control. His lungs seem to seize up and for a split second, he worries he's going to start coughing. But his throat opens up again and he gasps, shaking with the aftershocks. His hands shake and his legs go soft- he would collapse if not for Bucky pinning him to the wall, breath heavy into Steve's shoulder as the shower rinses them both of come and sweat.

Steve pulls his hands from Bucky's back up to the sides of his neck, lifting his head so he can look him in the eye. Bucky's wet hair is curled across his forehead, stuck to his skin by the water. His eyes are more black than blue, pupils blown wide. He licks his lips and Steve feels the heat of blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Mmm, you're so _pretty_ like this Stevie. God, I love you so much. " Bucky murmurs with a soft grin, voice thick and rough. If Steve had the stamina, he'd be ready to do this all again, just from Bucky's voice talkin' like that and his eyes and his hair stuck to his face, _God damn it_ -

"Love you too- you're so good to me, Buck- you drive me _crazy_." Steve sighs, pushing Bucky's hair back from his face. Bucky hums happily, and a tremor rocks Steve's body. The shower has ceased to be refreshing and is now just mind-numbingly cold. His teeth start to chatter, and Bucky notices.

"God damn it Steve, you're gonna freeze. Why didn't you say something?" He hits the taps off and then gently sets Steve on his feet.

" _Ah_ ," Steve huffs when Bucky pulls out of him. " 'm gonna be feelin' that tomorrow." He doesn't mind. He loves it when Bucky doesn't treat him like some untouchable piece of fine china. It always feels like a win.

"Can you walk?" Bucky thinks he's so cheeky, but he can't hide his concern. Steve scoffs.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He goes to take a step and winces. Bucky sweeps him off his feet before he can protest, carrying him bridal style out of the shower. Steve grabs a towel as they pass the towel rack, too sated to care that he's being carried like a child, or that Bucky is dripping all over the place.

When they step out into the bedroom, the hot air hits them like a wall, reminding them that it's a million and one degrees and more humid than a steam engine. Bucky lays Steve on the bed and takes the towel, drying his own hair and barely touching the rest of himself- he knows there's no point in getting dry when he's gonna be sweating again in a few minutes. He drops on the bed next to Steve and a long silence passes between them.

"Thank God for hot summer days." Steve whispers, and Bucky is on him again before he can laugh at how simple it is to get anything he wants out of Bucky.

"That was a nice move, earlier." Bucky pretty much reads Steve's mind. "Lying around naked to get me hard the minute I walked in the door."

 _He looks like a God_ , Steve thinks. Haloed in the warm orange glow of the evening light, lips full and eyes like shining stones.

"Not difficult." Steve laughs. Bucky presses their foreheads together, thumb drawing strange shapes on Steve's cheekbone. Steve can't resist putting his hands into Bucky's hair again- it's already messed up anyway. "You're too easy."

"Only for you, Rogers." Bucky intones, any hint of a joke gone from his face.

"Only for you."


End file.
